


Makoto the Esper

by orphan_account



Category: Free!
Genre: Haru being a dork, M/M, Mako being sexy as hell, Tumblr prompts fuel my soul, imaginary smut, probably eventual actual smut, smooches, this will be real porn eventually I know it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2506796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“AU prompt: Person A is thinking sexually graphic or generally odd thoughts and suddenly panics and thinks ‘If you’re a mind reader, cough right now.’ Person B coughs”. I mean c'mon, some prompts are just written for MakoHaru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makoto the Esper

"...and I **swear** , I ate all three of them in my sleep! There is no other possible explanation!"

"Ah, Nagisa-kun, perhaps someone else in your home mistook them for their own and erroneously ate them?"

"No no no, I distinctly remember the taste of strawberry pudding as the first thing I noticed when I rolled out of bed." The blonde boy crossed his arms and nodded his head in apparent agreement with his own recollections. 

"Maybe you were so tired from all your studying that you can't remember eating them before bed?" A warm, compassionate voice piped in amongst the mindless conversation. Haruka took notice of it. 

"Oh definitely impossible. I didn't even study this week, much less right before bed." 

" _Naaagisa._ " Two voices pitched simultaneously. The blonde head retracted slightly, and from the corner of his bored eyes Haru made out Nagisa's form scratching the back of his head and letting out an insincere laugh. 

These types of conversations were the group's bread and butter, but Haruka Nanase was an expert at tuning out his friends headache-inducing chatter in favor of focusing on his usual lunches and the relaxing sound of the wind. If he ignored the bunch well enough and piqued his ears hard enough, Haru could almost make out the faint background music of the ocean. Or maybe he just wanted to hear it so badly his mind filled in the sounds for him. Regardless, Haru was always eased by it. 

But not today. Today Nagisa's antics, Rei's chiding, and Makoto's parenting could drown out even an atomic bomb, which Haru also considered to be possibly more favorable than some of these back-and-forth dialogues. 

A pair of emerald marbles focused on Haru's profile, and a partially teasing, mostly empathetic voice accompanied them, "Mmm, I bet it's too loud to hear the water from the roof today." Makoto chuckled and tilted his head ever-so-slightly in response to Haru's sideways glare. 

"Ehh, I wish Mako-chan could read _my_ mind, too. Oh! Rei-chan, give it a try! See if you can hear what I'm thinking!" Nagisa bounced on his knees closer to poor, unsuspecting Rei. The poor, spectacle-adorned boy instinctively adjusted his glasses and allowed his hand to linger over his face to cover the rushing red spilling over his nose and cheeks. 

"N-Nagisa-kun, that is entirely impossible..." Haru sighed and disregarded the rest of the pair's conversation. He could not, however, entirely disregard the graceful smile and the gentle eyes peeking at him every so often as he ate his mackerel rolls in frustrated silence.

  


The education system is to blame, Haru concluded. Since the start of their morning class (at an entirely _ungodly_ hour, he might add) the poor adolescent had been using his best deductive reasoning to find a culprit that he could find fault with for his overall inability to focus on a single word pouring out of their flamboyant teacher. After hours of on-and-off analysis/cloud watching, Haruka Nanase decided that the very nature of school itself was flawed, and thus lead to his helplessness against day-dreaming.

For once, however, Haru had grown weary of his usual skyward sightseeing – constantly overhearing classmates dawdling on about how he would eventually sprout wings and soar out the window may or may not have played a part in this frustration. He cared quite little for unwanted opinions, but it was certainly true that cumulonimbi and seagulls could only preoccupy his wanderlust eyes for so long each day. Slightly reluctant but determined to sway his thoughts elsewhere, Haru swept his gaze in a slow 180, rushing past the chalkboard with intentional haste. He may be looking for something else to hold his attention, but school would literally never be the something he sought.

Almost instantly, cerulean eyes landed and locked onto a familiar sight: Makoto Tachibana. Tall, rugged, gentle, delicate, charismatic… the list went on. Obviously, Haru had discovered the incredible magnetic pull of the cheeky brunette years prior, and since then he has simply fallen prey to the countless spells that his best friend cast upon him. Platonic relationships are all that either boy had ever had, and Haru only teetered dangerously on this ‘friend-zone’ line late at night, in his deepest, darkest fantasies. He wasn’t an idiot, and he most certainly was not blind: Makoto was gorgeous, and he understood the stoic teen literally better than he did himself, as clichéd as Haru knew it was. Haruka Nanase did not spout out tedious emotional biographies, and he felt no need to. Verbal interactions were tiring, and essentially unnecessary. Expressing himself was easy, however, so long as Makoto was around, for the brunette was born with the uncanny superpower of mind-reading. Whether he liked it or not, this unspoken communication was inevitable with his skyscraper of a companion, and his most timid and vulnerable thoughts were always fair game for Makoto’s relentless understanding. Late at night, Haru could allow himself some quiet comfort from the emotional warmth his best friend showered him wtih, and (more often than the stoic boy would like to admit) this warmth could easily spread, urged on by the sexual impetus that is Makoto Tachibana’s naked torso.

Some days, Haru half-jokingly wondered if the whole mind-reading thing was genuine, considering how spookily accurate some of Mako’s “guesses” had been in the past, and today was one of those quizzical days. Curiously, Haru eyed the center of his secret affection. As he stared on unbeknownst, Makoto – innocent as always – squinted towards the front of the classroom, huffed out a microscopic blow of irritation, and determinedly scribbled away at his notebook. His contacts had given him trouble that morning (as had his feisty twin siblings, presumptively) thus his success at copying down the English notes was minimal at best, Haru gathered. Still victim to Haru’s lingering gazes, Mako rolled his lower lip beneath his teeth, set it free, and puffed out his cheeks with another exhausted sigh. Every action was absolutely entrancing, and the sheer attraction Haru felt to just the guy’s face alone was borderline obsessive. Each sunny smile, every penetrative glance, all of the early-morning chuckles that greeted him left Haru weak-kneed and terribly hot. He was a functioning, pubescent male and he had long ago accepted the fact that a fine pair of legs and washboard abs you could eat mackerel off of would lead to plenty of needs, and who was he to deny himself such a pleasure?

Letting his mind wander towards the familiar warmth of horniness, Haru’s eye vacationed around Makoto’s entire body, giving himself plenty of imagery to work with. Mako, panting beneath him with one eye wincing closed as he turns his head to the side, completely flushed and flabbergasted from whatever sinful things Haru could be doing to his lower half. Mako, trapping Haru’s slighter shoulders against a wall, crowding him with his heat and his smell and his kisses and his voice. Mako, whining out a painfully seductive “ahh~” when the buildup gets to be too much for him, and his throat clenches against every moan, and his toes curl into the pads of his feet, and his cheeks pool with hot blood staining them from within, and he can feel the rushing sensation swirling to his core like a tsunami, seizing up from the raw pleasure, and – 

Haru’s eyes flash open. When had he closed him? He was breathing too hard. He could feel a faint sheen of sweat on his scalp and in his balled fists. What time was it? What year was it? He felt a shock coming back to reality, evening his hot breaths, skewing his thoughts back to reality and all things not Makoto… oh, shit. Makoto. The mind-reader. What if he knew? What if he could tell, whenever Haru took an internal trip down imaginary, pervert way? True, it didn’t happen often in public or during the day, but there had always been instances. Like now, as Haru sat with a potent boner awkwardly stabbing his hips, eyes still recovering from the frighteningly realistic fantasies leaving their last shadowy wisps and kisses behind his eyelids.

What if Makoto could literally always tell, could always hear what his own voice was screaming inside of Haru’s horny, warped mind? Haruka Nanase was no fool. Haruka Nanase was wary, and panicked from his own libido and his best friend’s eerie capabilities. Haruka Nanase was… intrigued. If Makoto could read his mind, he needed proof. He needed to know, immediately. But, how could he test it…? ‘… _Makoto._ ’ Haru experimentally thought to himself. The brunette continued his steady rhythm of straining to see the scrawled out English vocabulary and hurrying to copy it down. No luck there. Perhaps he could turn it on and off? Or maybe it was one of those superpowers that only activated when the person was focusing on it. Haru coughed, cautiously, into his hand. When Mako failed to catch the signal, Haru cleared his throat a bit more prominently, triggering a surprised glance from vibrant green eyes and an adorable “o” shape from Makoto’s peach lips. When Haru simply returned the boy’s raised eyebrows with an equally questioning look, Mako’s eyes relaxed with his heart-warming, groin-stirring smile and the trademark head tilt. Haru was such a goner. But, he still was not convinced. He had to play this safe, to make sure his dirty, lustrous demons were still secret. Mako was beginning to look back towards the front of the room when Haru put more intensity into his look and leaned forward some, drawing Mako’s gaze back onto him once more. Determined, slightly scared, and still incredibly hot and bothered, Haru thought (as loud as he could think something), ‘...if you can hear me, Makoto, cough.’ Haru scanned his friend’s face for any signs of recognition, growing impatient and admittedly disappointed. Just when all hope was lost and Haru’s eyes were growing dull with disappointment, Makoto Tachibana’s eyebrows crinkled in moderate discomfort. Makoto Tachibana’s eyes narrowed, watering slightly. Makoto Tachibana raised a tight fist to his jaw. Makoto Tachibana coughed into his fist, just once. Haruka Nanase practically fainted.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you hated it as much as I did ;-;  
> I want to do it more justice but, ehe.. I don't know how.  
> There will be more to this, I can do it!


End file.
